


You've Got ♥ Mail

by zeekubeast



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cybersex, Kink Exploration, M/M, Masturbation, Office AU, Online Romance, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romantic Comedy, Slow Burn, Trans Characters, Trans Claude von Riegan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-01-13 03:03:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21237098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeekubeast/pseuds/zeekubeast
Summary: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester is a successful man who wants for nothing; he has a high-paying job as the Head of Human Resources at a prestigious company, a beautiful modern apartment, and even a cat. But when he ventures into an online kink community, he discovers hidden desires that he never knew.When a charismatic writer captivates his imagination with off-the-cuff erotica, can Lorenz manage to balance his newfound sex life with the daily trials of office work? And what about when he develops feelings for this stranger on the internet?A Romantic Comedy AU about Lorenz and Claude falling in love over the internet while working in the same building.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to the claurenz discord server for fueling these shenanigans. special thanks to key-ei for the rapid-fire headcanons that sparked it all, and casualbird for being both soundboard and editor for this fic.

**February 14th 4:00 PM  
Leicester Alliance Offices, HR Department**

There was truly nothing quite as vapid and banal as Valentine's Day in a corporate office, Lorenz thought. Someone had made an attempt to decorate the third-floor break room for the occasion, but had done so with all the enthusiasm and skill of a toddler armed with a confetti cannon. A string of tissue-paper hearts draped haphazardly over the mini-fridge, the back half slowly disintegrating, having fallen into the sink at some point during the day; a bouquet of cheap costume-shop fake roses was placed on a table, with a manic post-it next to it saying “TAKE ONE!!!” and everything was dusted with pink paper confetti.

But perhaps he was being overly harsh, Lorenz considered, tipping some confetti out of his personal mug. It was just that he rarely got to appreciate the holiday spirit these past few years, Valentine’s being a trial for those who worked in Human Resources. He breathed deeply, in through his nose and out through his mouth. He had handled the company-wide reminders of appropriate conduct with grace. There had been no vulgar jokes sent to the wrong e-mails (yet). It was almost the end of the day, almost the end of the week, and...

“Oh no,” Lorenz sighed, bitterly disappointed to find that the black tea had run out. Of _course_ it had. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Just one more hour, he told himself.

Lorenz returned to his desk with a mug of lackluster lemon-blend tea. Even on just the short walk back to his desk, the atmosphere of restless anticipation was palpable in the office. Most people slowed down naturally this late in the day, but today was the worst it had been in recent memory. Everyone was eager to leave, to meet up with partners, go on a promising date, or simply get aggressively drunk and zealously denounce the concept of Love. Coworkers shuffled and reshuffled papers they had read ten times in antsy boredom, all eyes in the room drawn to the clock like a lodestone. Lorenz doubted that anyone could be productive in such an atmosphere, and the fact that the winter sun had already escaped beyond the clouds didn’t help.

Another sigh escaped Lorenz despite himself. He frowned, took a fortifying sip of tea, and then frowned harder as he realized it was lemon-blend. He tried to focus, tucking a stray bit of hair that had come loose from his bun behind his ear. He clicked open the schedule for the next two weeks, perhaps refreshing his memory on future meetings and events would let him find something to apply himself to. Lorenz rubbed at his left temple, nursing the beginnings of a tension headache.

“Excuse me, Lorenz?” Mercedes tapped him on the shoulder.

His feeble attempt at concentration was utterly derailed. Lorenz turned his head. “Yes?” 

Mercedes swayed lightly on the spot, worrying the edge of her heather cardigan with her fingertips. 

“Sorry to bother you, but I only just remembered that I wanted to give this to you when you sat back down.” Mercedes offered him a heart-shaped cookie on a napkin. “I made these for the office and I had put them in the break room at lunch time, but I thought I’d save one just for you.” 

It was a very pretty cookie; the dough had been cut and dyed to create a pattern of nesting hearts, alternating in pink and buttery golden brown; the little sugar crystals caught the light and shimmered softly, and Lorenz could smell the vanilla and cinnamon from where he sat.

“Why thank you, Mercedes,” Lorenz gratefully accepted the napkin with a smile. “That’s so kind of you.” 

“Not at all. I hope you enjoy it!” She beamed at him and waited expectantly for him to try it. 

Lorenz took a bite. It snapped perfectly between his teeth, not too crumbly and not too dry, the butter melting on to his tongue and leaving the rich taste of vanilla in his nose. It was like eating a ray of sunshine that had peeked out from behind the clouds. Lorenz hummed appreciation.

“It’s delicious. You truly have a gift for baking, Mercedes,” he said.

“Thank you, Lorenz! To be honest, you looked like you needed a pick-me-up,” she replied, with a gentle concern that blindsided him. Did he really look so bad that Mercedes was worried about him? 

Lorenz couldn’t even begin to think of a response to that, because at that moment Sylvain, the most persistent menace to HR, showed up. Sylvain had undone his tie and top button, for some reason. It made him look completely under-dressed, especially with the way that the man kept his hair in a rakish mess. Personally, Lorenz thought it looked more like a permanent case of bed-head. 

“Hey Mercedes, thanks for letting me borrow your stapler,” Sylvain said with a grin. Lorenz wondered why Sylvain couldn’t have borrowed a stapler from his own department, but the truth was probably that nobody who actually worked with Sylvain would willingly lend him office supplies. 

“You’re welcome, Sylvain,” Mercedes replied as she accepted it.

“Welp!” Sylvain announced to the room. He had apparently decided that Lorenz and Mercedes made a suitable audience. “I’m clocking out for the day. I’ve got a hot date for Valentine’s and I’ve gotta go get ready.” He fluffed his hair with a hand, preening openly. 

“That sounds nice,” Mercedes replied with an impossible amount of sincerity. 

“What about you, Mercie? Got any plans?” Sylvain leaned against the wall in a way he probably thought was cool.

“Oh, nothing special.” Mercedes put away the stapler and sat down at her desk. “Me and Annette were going to have a girl’s night and watch our favorite movies together in our PJs.”

“That sounds sweet,” Sylvain cooed. “I bet you two have really cute pajamas. Actually, your plans sound way better than mine. Maybe you should invite me to join in someti—”

Lorenz cleared his throat loudly to interrupt. “If you’re headed out, then I wish you a good evening, Sylvain.” 

Surely even _he_ couldn’t fail to miss the implied dismissal.

“Thanks, Lorenz.” Sylvain dodged the implication entirely. “Hey, what are your plans for tonight? Does Mr. Tall, Pale and Fancy have someone special in mind for Valentine’s?” 

“As if I’d share my private life with you,” he sniffed. In truth, Lorenz had no plans whatsoever. He only had his usual Friday evening routine ahead of him: a nice dinner with a glass of wine and curling up with his cat to read the latest novel. “Besides, my romantic pursuits, or lack thereof, aren’t any of your business.” 

“Whoa there, Lorenz!” Sylvain lifted his hands in mock-surprise, a smirk on his face. “If you’re not careful you’ll end up a spinster with that kind of attitude!” 

“The term for a man is ‘bachelor,’” Lorenz corrected, terse. 

“I know what I said.” Sylvain winked and Lorenz could have snapped his pen in frustration. “Actually, I’ve just had a brilliant idea! Why don’t you try online dating?” 

“Excuse me?!”

“If you’re too snobby to go clubbing like the rest of us, surely you’ll have no problem picking out your perfect match by researching them online, oh Grand Master of Employee Relations. I know just the site for you, too!” 

Sylvain nicked a pad of post-its from Mercedes’ desk and jotted down the URL. Lorenz could only splutter half-formed protests as Sylvain reached past him and slapped the note onto the top corner of Lorenz’s laptop. 

_“Trust_ me,” Sylvain said in a low voice. “It’s perfect for someone with your... discerning tastes.” 

And with another infuriating wink, Sylvain finally said his farewells, leaving Lorenz dumbstruck by the sheer impudence and unprofessionalism of the encounter. He was tempted to file a complaint with Human Resources! But, he’d only be complaining to himself, ultimately, and he was not so petty a man as to let _Sylvain_ of all people get under his skin. Honestly, that man practically made it a sport to be irritating!

It wasn’t until Mercedes asked if he was feeling alright that Lorenz noticed his tension headache had progressed from _distant threat_ to _banging on the back of his eyes_ while he’d been busy seething about Sylvain’s absolute _cheek._

“It’s nothing, just a headache,” Lorenz reassured, forcing himself to relax his shoulders.

“A headache isn’t nothing, Lorenz,” Mercedes said gently. “Here, why don’t I close up the office for the night? You look like you could use an early night.” 

Lorenz considered protesting—it was his responsibility as department head—but Mercedes gave him such a look of motherly disappointment that whatever argument he had shriveled up and died instantly.

“I—Yes, you’re probably right.” Lorenz stood up from his desk and dutifully began packing his bag.

“Thank you so much, Mercedes,” he added, having said his usual goodbyes. Mercedes waved serenely as the elevator doors closed before him.

The soft piano of Debussy’s _Arabesque_ on the drive home did much to soothe Lorenz’s temper—as did the ibuprofen from the first aid kit he kept in his car—and by the time he arrived at his apartment he was merely tired from the day’s work and not exhausted.

Duchess, his elderly long-haired white cat, greeted him at the door with a plaintive meow and watery green eyes. Lorenz removed his coat and bowed down to let her nuzzle the side of his hand until she was satisfied.

“Hello again, Duchess,” he cooed, scratching gently at the corner of her chin that she loved so much. “I’ve had such a long day today, my darling. You wouldn’t believe the nerve of some people, and they ran out of the good tea! Can you _imagine?”_

Duchess threaded between his legs, trilling faintly,l and trotted off towards the kitchen. Lorenz nodded, untying his tight bun with one hand and sighed in relief as his hair spilled freely over his shoulders.

“You’re quite right, Duchess. Dinner and a glass of wine are definitely in order,” he said, combing a hand through his hair. “I’m rather in the mood for the Oeil de Perdrix tonight. What do you think?”

Duchess meowed insistently, her great fluffy tail curling as she circled her dishes, impatiently waiting for her own dinner to be served. Lorenz scritched just above her tail, humming in agreement when she arched her back.

“Yes, the Oeil de Perdrix with some Chopin for accompaniment. Then a hot bath and a movie in bed should do quite nicely for tonight.” And with that, Lorenz set about his evening.

His dinner was a simple but elegant affair: pan-seared salmon on a bed of wilted baby spinach, drizzled in lemon butter, plated to perfection. Lorenz drifted through the rest of the evening, trying to keep his thoughts only on the moment; the smell of the salmon with lemon butter, the gentle crescendo of the _Nocturnes,_ the meticulous way that Duchess groomed herself after licking her bowl clean, and the clear pop of the cork as he opened his second-best bottle of rosé to breathe before he sat down to eat. The little luxuries of life were worth indulging in, and Lorenz let the music and the wine soothe his weary mind. 

He had forgotten almost entirely about work by the time he stepped into his bathtub, and by the time he put on his fluffiest bathrobe Lorenz felt truly refreshed. In fact, he was considering that perhaps his movie-in-bed should be something a little more stimulating, such as a documentary on art history or some such, when he rediscovered the post-it that had so offended him earlier. 

Lorenz snorted. It was amusing, actually, now that he had some distance from the incident. He plucked the post-it off his screen, intent on simply crumpling it up and throwing it away when he read the URL that Sylvain had jotted down: secretpassions.net. 

He paused, considering. The name was certainly... intriguing. Lorenz was struck by curiosity as to what kind of online dating site would have such a name, and moreover, what kind of impression he gave that would make Sylvain so confident in recommending it to him directly. 

_Secret Passions..._

It sounded like the title of an overwrought romance novel; the kind with a swooning heroine in the arms of a shirtless Adonis, their hair artfully windswept against a gauzy sunset. (The kind that Lorenz often sought out at airports as entertainment on long-distance flights, hiding a small collection of favorites in the bottom drawer of his nightstand.) It sounded, well... _titillating_ was a word for it. 

Lorenz chewed his lip, curiosity getting the better of him. He opened a private browser window and typed “Secret Passions” into the search engine. It would be best to discern what kind of reputation the site had before waltzing into it, after all. The first result was the home page, unsurprisingly, with the secondary results being a few popular subpages, followed by opinion-piece articles with titles that were clearly exploiting the controversial subject matter for clicks. They didn’t tell him much, aside from the fact that Secret Passions dealt with sexual content. No surprise there. 

He clicked open on the home page itself. Beyond the mandatory age-gate, the landing screen for the home page was... charmingly melodramatic. The background was a soft charcoal, not true black, with silver text and magenta hyperlinks. The logo header was the words _‘Secret Passions’_ written in calligraphy so lavish as to be nearly illegible. Underneath, the tagline read: _‘Discover and Connect with your hidden Desires...’_

The whole production smacked of a romanticized secret society—the kind that met only on moonlit nights and exchanged perfumed letters describing salacious acts. Lorenz smirked to himself. How amusing. The web design was definitely more tasteful than your average hook-up site (if kind of kitsch in its own self-serious way), but the sidebar advertisements showed some... extreme adult toy options. Lorenz tried not to think too much about what a set of silver clamps and chains would be used for in a sexual context.

He turned his attention back to the index of various subsections of the site. There were many: Explore, Forums, Erotic Photography, Erotic Literature, and more. Lorenz clicked on Literature, deciding that if there was anything worthwhile to be found here, he could at least get a baseline judgment of its quality based on the writing.

The Literature section automatically displayed the most recent posts, though there were options for Most Popular and Highest Rated, as well as a rudimentary tag system. Lorenz skimmed through the titles and one post caught his eye. 

> **gentle domming after a long day (anal fingering/handjobs, amab reader)**  
Posted by: **arrowtothehart** at 18:03 

The lack of proper capitalization was somewhat grating, but Lorenz began to read almost despite himself. 

> _when you come home all tense and tired from working, i know exactly what kind of attention my baby needs to unwind. i kiss your neck and tell you to get washed up. i tell you that i’ll take care of you tonight, and that i'll be waiting in our bedroom for you._
> 
> _when you come into the room in a towel with your hair still wet, i'm sitting on the bed waiting. i smile when i see you and ask you to sit on my lap. i kiss the side of your neck just under your ear and let my hands slide up over your thighs under the towel._
> 
> _you look so tired baby, i say. i think you've been working too hard, but that's alright. i know what you need._
> 
> _my hands unwrap your towel and i pet your back and chest, pulling you close to me. i kiss you, i kiss your neck, your shoulders. i stroke your skin so gently, rubbing all the sore spots, but i don't touch your cock at all even though you're starting to get so hard for me._

The rest of the post was cut off by a read-more. Lorenz clicked through, entranced. The vocabulary was so simple, but something about it was... evocative. He bit his lip as he continued to read.

> _you start to whine because i'm teasing you. i ask you if my baby wants to be touched and you say yes. i lay you down on the bed, on your back and spread your thighs, grope your cute ass and kiss the inside of your knee. i let one finger run from the tip of your cock to the base and back, too light to do anything but make you squirm until you're dripping precum for me._
> 
> _i tell you that i'm going to let you cum, but only if you're good for me. i ask if you're going to be good for me. you nod your head, so flushed from all my teasing. i rub my fingers over the head of your cock and gather up your precum so that i can make you lick it off my fingers._

Lorenz felt himself flush at the mental image. He gnawed on a finger, his tongue darting over the knuckle. Normally, it was just a nervous habit but...

> _your cock bobs against your belly, straining for contact as you suck on my fingers, and i let my hands wander over the inside of your thighs and spread your cheeks so i can look at your cute little hole. you blush when my fingers start to tease your rim, not going inside yet, just touching you and making you want it. then suddenly i stop and i tell you to wait._

Lorenz gulped, his face grown hot. He shifted his thighs and then glanced down in shock to see that he was aroused. His erection threatened to poke out of the overlap in his bathrobe. Reflexively, he drew the robe around himself tighter, trying to hide his indecency. Then again, he thought to himself, it wasn't as if there was anyone to see it. Lorenz licked his lips. If he wanted to, he _could_...

He quickly scanned his bedroom to make sure Duchess wasn't there. Awkwardly, he shuffled to close the door and scurried back to sit down, his heart racing. How long had it been since he'd last ended up like this? Lorenz couldn't remember off the top of his head as he made himself comfortable in front of his laptop once more.

The fabric brushed sensually against the inside of his thighs as he undid the cord around his waist, let it fall away. His cock stood at attention, the flush pink of its head peeking out from the foreskin. He hadn’t even touched himself yet. Lorenz closed a hand gently around his shaft, cold fingers making him hiss a little. Still, he couldn’t bear to stop. 

His eyes flickered back to the writing. How had it roused him so much? Lorenz scrolled back up, rereading from the beginning. There was something about it that he could picture so clearly... A faceless lover, touching his back, kissing his neck, whispering in Lorenz’s ear and promising him pleasure if he could be patient for it. Lorenz’s breathing grew ragged as he stroked himself carefully. He kept reading.

> _the next time i touch you, it’s my fingers against your asshole again but this time they're slick with lube and i'm not just teasing. i push one finger in slowly, so slowly that it just feels good as i open you up, and then another. i finger you and find that sweet spot inside you that you love so much and knead my knuckles into it until you're moaning and trying to fuck yourself on my fingers. _
> 
> _you look so hot when you're desperate for me. i tell you so and kiss your neck more, tasting your racing pulse. your cock is so hard and dripping for me, but you've been so good and you haven't touched yourself at all, even though i know you want to._
> 
> _i cup my other hand around your balls while i keep fingering you. your cock twitches and you gasp from the touch. i rub them gently with my thumb, noticing how tight they are, how close to bursting you are. you squirm and your ass clenches around my fingers, drawing me in deeper._

Lorenz inhaled sharply through his teeth. He drew his fist down to the base of the shaft, pulling back the hood of skin with his fingertips, exposing the head of it fully. The crown of his cock was flushed a bloody pink, a clear drop of arousal beading at the slit. Faintly, he wished that he’d had the foresight to prepare for anal play, but he was too far gone for that.

> _does my baby need to cum? i ask_
> 
> _you can't even speak you're so turned on. you just nod. i can't help but smile and give you a kiss on the lips as i wrap my hand around your shaft and gently stroke you off while my fingers grind against your prostate. _
> 
> _you've been so good babe, i tell you as i rub my palm over the head in that way that makes your toes curl. i can feel your breath hitch as you get close._
> 
> _that's it baby, cum for me_

_Rapturous_ was the only way Lorenz could think to describe it. The author had gripped his imagination, sent it running wild, and he was helpless but to follow. Lorenz could picture it vividly—the faceless lover’s voice against his shoulder, his fingers prying Lorenz apart at the seams with devastating care and affection. Lorenz bit his lip, feeling himself draw close to the edge. He pumped his hand up to the tip, pushing the foreskin back over the sensitive crown.

His eyes skimmed over the last few lines again, and impulsively he tried to copy that palming motion. His fingertips cupped under the ridge, Lorenz twisted his hand, grinding it against the head of his cock in a way that made him burn. He cried out as orgasm seized him. His legs trembled and Lorenz squirmed, his body torn between overstimulation and the need for more, his cock spending thick and hot against the palm of his hand until it ran down the shaft in rivulets.

Lorenz gasped. He felt light-headed and short of breath, his limbs shivering from the intensity of the orgasm. His erection had wilted, but even just the motion of removing his hand from it sent a shower of sparks up his spine. Either he had forgotten how wonderful sexual relief felt, or it had been one of the best orgasms in his memory. Lorenz swallowed and tried to smooth his breathing. He felt faintly embarrassed, both by his own actions and by the speed at which he had finished. But beyond that, he felt... He couldn’t put words to it. 

Even as Lorenz cleaned up the aftermath of his pleasure, his body basked in the glow of orgasm. And stranger still, despite having sated himself physically, Lorenz’s mind kept returning to the writing, and to what else Secret Passions might hold.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His libido re-awakened, Lorenz delves deeper into the mysteries of secretpassions.net, while trying to maintain his professionalism as Head of HR.

**March 3rd 9:57 AM  
Leicester Alliance Offices, Conference Room 1**

“—To summarize: using the methods I have outlined, we will be able to optimize our output and increase efficiency for the next quarter by nearly fifteen per cent. Thank you for your time.”

A smattering of polite applause went around the conference room as the presentation came to an end. Lorenz clapped with his pen between his fingers, ready to finish his note-taking once the speaker had departed. He always attended these upper management strategy meetings, even if he didn’t have a presentation to make himself. As the Head of Human Resources, Lorenz liked to have his finger on the pulse. Staying in the loop would allow him to anticipate the requests of the departments and successfully balance them against the needs of the workers. A caring hand makes the garden bloom, as his mother liked to say.

Lorenz glanced down at his notepad to double check that he had written down all the salient information. Satisfied that he had, he turned to a new page in preparation for the next presentation. 

Unfortunately, the next speaker had all the charisma and liveliness of a deceased schoolmaster. The head of Logistics rattled off statistics in a toneless drone that slid through Lorenz's mind without sticking. Not that it mattered, since everything he was saying was already written on the slide. Lorenz finished his notes before the speaker managed to reach the second point. Honestly, he thought, a print-out would have done better.

Lorenz shifted in his seat, attempting to marshal his attention, and winced inwardly when the movement made the dull ache in his rear twinge with pain. His ass was still tender from yesterday’s activities. He really should have known better than to get carried away with himself on a Sunday night, and now he was suffering the consequences of his enthusiasm.

It had been worth it, though. Lorenz bit his lip, remembering the delicious throb of pleasure that had run through his cock every time the blunt head of the dildo pressed into his prostate. His knees dug into the towel laid out on his bed, legs spread so that his cock hung untouched between his thighs, balancing himself with one arm while the other held the toy in place as he slowly fucked himself to pieces on it. Eventually, his thighs had trembled too much to continue. Lorenz had finished himself with his hand, the dildo buried to the hilt in his ass while he came. _Definitely_ worth it.

After his first foray into Secret Passions last month had awakened his curiosity, Lorenz’s libido was greater than ever. It was a new hobby of sorts, researching and exploring his sexuality. He had learned more about sex in the last month from browsing Secret Passions than he could have imagined, though, truth be told, the subject still flustered him.

That first weekend had turned into a two-day bender of absolute hedonism. Lorenz had unearthed the singular sex toy he owned (a dildo he had bought while still in university; a lightly abstract piece of purple silicone, entombed in the deepest reaches of his drawers in an unmarked shoebox) and after a thorough cleaning had re-acquainted himself with it intimately. He came more in the space of that weekend than he had perhaps in _months._ By Sunday morning he’d run out of lube and there was a small pile of used condoms in his bathroom bin, but Lorenz screwed up his courage and bought more supplies from the pharmacy that same day. He’d felt like a man possessed.

All in all, it had been a very sweaty, sticky, and overwhelmingly satisfying weekend in bed. Lorenz ended up showering four times within two days as a result of his activities. But when the glow of orgasm had faded, shame came thundering in, and Lorenz had cleared his browser history in a fit of embarrassment.

He'd dreaded that first Monday morning coming back into work, some paranoid part of him insisting that everybody would be able to tell what he had been doing over the weekend. Lorenz had kept his head down and prayed that Sylvain wouldn't talk to him. If he had so much as _mentioned_ the website, Lorenz was sure he would have blushed hard enough to spontaneously combust. Luckily, Sylvain's entire weekend had been miserable and the man was in too much of a sulk to care about anyone else's problems. 

But wrestling with his internal sense of shame was a different beast entirely. He’d argued with himself on the subject for nearly two weeks. The back-and-forth on whether sex was suddenly consuming his life had plagued his mind in every idle moment. It was only when he momentarily forgot the author’s name and almost lost access to that wonderful first piece of writing that Lorenz made up his mind and created his own account on Secret Passions. It was perfectly normal for a healthy adult man to enjoy masturbation in his free time, he’d told himself. There was nothing to be ashamed of in how he chose to act in private. It was silly, really, how much he had fretted at first. Now, spending his Friday evenings indulging in self-pleasure was simply part of his routine.

He also spent a great deal of time discovering new sexual possibilities. At first some of the vocabulary had been intimidating; BDSM had always seemed like a monolith of deviance and cruelty from the outside. But as he read more about the personal experiences of others, he found that kink was more like an open buffet. Everyone was welcome to pick only what suited their tastes, and if they wanted to try something new, they weren’t forced to stick with it. The frank honesty he found in the discussions was eye-opening and strangely comforting.

So, Lorenz had browsed that brave new world of kink, picking and choosing whatever caught his fancy and tucking it away like a magpie. A few things he had already known about himself—his sexual attraction to men was heartily reaffirmed by perusing the galleries under Erotic Photography—but others were a pleasant surprise, such as the concept of ‘edging’, or specific techniques regarding anal play. When Lorenz discovered that he was able to position himself to actually ride his dildo, it had turned into a _very_ good day for him.

The sound of dry applause jolted Lorenz out of his reverie. The presentation was over. He flushed, joining in just a beat too late and hoping nobody had noticed his daydreaming. He chided himself. How dare he be distracted by inappropriate thoughts at work? It was highly unprofessional! He should know better, considering his position. Lorenz took a long swig from his water bottle and schooled himself back to his usual composure.

“Our final presentation for the morning is from our new Senior Marketing Strategist, Claude von Riegan. Take it away, Claude.”

That caught Lorenz’s attention.

It was impossible not to have an opinion about Claude von Riegan. He was the grandson of the CEO of Leicester Alliance Ltd., hired practically off the street barely two years ago, and risen to the ranks of upper management already. There were rumours that his mother, Mr. von Riegan’s daughter, had been estranged from the family until recently and that Claude had little connection to his grandfather, but that only made the decision stranger.

Claude strode to the front of the room with an easy gait. _Oh, this should be interesting,_ Lorenz thought. It was the first opportunity he'd had to observe the man actually doing his job.

He hadn't been involved in Claude's hiring or his most recent promotion at all, which was unheard of, considering that he was head of Human Resources. The powers above him had simply hoisted Claude out of obscurity and placed him on a pedestal without so much as a by-your-leave to Lorenz. The whole arrangement smacked of nepotism. Distasteful, honestly.

Lorenz scrutinized him carefully and realized that his clothes weren't even properly fitted. Claude wore a warm grey jacket with matching trousers over a goldenrod sweater and white button-up, but the sleeves were too long for his arms, his shoulders clearly too broad for a conventional fit. The cut of the jacket was unflatteringly boxy, making him look shorter and bulkier than he was. At least the colours were nice, for something that had clearly been bought at a department store, Lorenz thought snidely. But that was the only good thing that could be said about the outfit; other than that it fit the dress code.

Claude cleared his throat and addressed the room. “Thanks for your patience, everyone. I promise I won’t take up too much of your time here, we’ve all got our Mondays to get through.”

A little chuckle rose from the audience. Claude flashed a winning smile and Lorenz narrowed his eyes, determined to see past any false charm. Informal manners and good looks were no substitute for actual skill.

Claude clicked the remote and behind him the projector displayed a title as he began speaking. It was like watching a performer take the stage; the presentation moved seamlessly behind him, each transition matching his speech without so much as a blip. His voice was clear, warm, and something about it captured the attention of everyone in the room. The fog of boredom that had been creeping in was evaporated under his easy smile.

Despite himself, Lorenz found himself agreeing with Claude’s plans and there were even a few jokes that made him chuckle appreciatively. It was such a turn-around from the previous presentations, which had been dry and straightforward for the most part, even the ones that had included a handful of forced jokes. Claude stood head and shoulders above the rest. He wasn’t just talented—he was _skilled_ at public speaking.

By the time the presentation came to the end, Lorenz felt his attitude toward Claude had thawed somewhat. He applauded along with the rest of the audience, and watched thoughtfully as Claude accepted congratulations with surprising humility. Perhaps his promotion was not as ill-gotten as Lorenz had first thought. Nevertheless, Lorenz considered as he straightened his jacket, he doubted that Claude would have been promoted so quickly on his personal merits.

_I’ll have to keep an eye on him,_ Lorenz mused to himself. Rising stars had a tendency to burn out the fastest.

**March 4th 7:48 PM  
Lorenz’s Apartment, Bedroom**

Lorenz sat down at his desk and set up his laptop, rolling his shoulders lightly as it booted up. He opened up his personal email, idly clicking through to see if anything new had come in since yesterday evening. A new notification from Secret Passions stood at the top of his inbox:

> **arrowtothehart has posted a new Journal entry**

Lorenz's heart hiccupped as he read the username—the very same that had written that marvelous piece that had started this whole journey. He had become quite the fan of arrowtothehart's writing. Lorenz recalled spending hours poring over his (definitely _his_) profile, once Lorenz finally made an account of his own on Secret Passions.

Whoever he was in real life, Lorenz was very familiar with who arrowtothehart was on Secret Passions. He was a trans man, roughly the same age as Lorenz, and his username was a pun based on the tattoo of a stag on his left bicep. The most Lorenz had seen of his face was from the profile photo—a sensual thing in black and white that was cropped from the nose down—which was mostly a generously stubbled jaw with full lips quirked in a slight smirk. It was a much nicer profile image than some Lorenz had seen, and certainly nicer than the stock image of a rose that Lorenz had chosen as a place-holder for his own.

Much more interesting than that was the list of kinks on arrowtothehart’s profile page. In fact, Lorenz had mostly used his list as a starting point to discover his own. He’d never known there was such a thing as _gentle_ sexual domination, and that was only the first thing that arrowtothehart had opened his eyes to.

The other thing that Lorenz was fascinated by was arrowtothehart’s journal entries. Many members on Secret Passions used the journal to either recount sexual anecdotes or talk about fantasies, but a few people actually took the format and used it to write short stories; arrowtothehart was one of them, and in Lorenz’s opinion, one of the best at it. Sure, there were a handful of others that might have better grammar and actually capitalized their sentences, but there was something about arrowtothehart’s writing that gripped Lorenz’s imagination like nothing else he’d ever read.

So it was with a racing heart that Lorenz clicked open the link, eager to see what new door his unwitting guide through the garden of sexual delights had opened.

> **the prince's personal elixir (massage, rimming, cock milking, cum play)  
**Posted by: arrowtothehart at 17:44
> 
> i'm trying something different for a change. hope you guys like it ;)

The story was about a prince and his favourite knight, a pair of handsome young men with a secret affair. The knight had come home from a long journey, and the prince requested to spend the night with him, alone.

When they retreated to the prince's chambers, the gentle prince undressed his knight, kissing over the scars of war and slowly unwinding the tension of travel with his hands. The knight tried to reciprocate, but the prince was insistent. He was going to spoil his lover in the way he wanted.

The knight had no choice but to submit to an incredibly sensual massage at the prince's hands, which made Lorenz squirm in his seat as he read the loving descriptions of the prince parting the muscled thighs that framed the knight's half-hard cock. Lorenz tried to hold himself back, to absorb the writing first before he got caught up by his libido. But he couldn't help but rub the heel of his palm against the shaft of his clothed cock. It was just enough pressure to soothe the ache as he read.

And then when the prince spread the knight's ass-cheeks and _licked_. Lorenz nearly yelped. To put one's tongue _there?_ His face was on fire at the thought. It was scandalizing, unhygienic, and yet- and yet…! Lorenz swallowed, his throat horribly dry all of a sudden, alarmed at how he could be so aroused by something so... _dirty_. He continued reading through his fingers, heart thumping in his ears.

The knight in all his strength could only submit to his lover's delicious touch. The rimming turned into fingering, the prince cruelly wrapping his hand around the base of the knight's cock so that he couldn't ejaculate and the prince kept teasing his prostate until thick beads of pearlescent semen beaded at the tip.

The knight pleaded to his prince for mercy, for release from this euphoric torture. The prince finally took pity on him,kissed his knight once on the lips and said he loved him. Then the prince took the knight’s cock in hand and stroked to climax, making the knight spill his cum into a wineglass. The prince drank his lover’s seed, declaring it the secret elixir that was the source of his strength.

The last line, with the prince tenderly feeding the knight his own cum from the wineglass, made Lorenz nearly salivate. It had been too long since he’d last had oral sex, either on the giving or the receiving end, and the descriptions made Lorenz burn to feel someone come in his mouth. His mind briefly flashed to the dildo in his bedside drawer and whether he should try sucking on it to pacify the urge. Lorenz’s erection throbbed at the thought. He exhaled through his teeth. He would play with his ass tonight, even if it was only a Tuesday. His mind made up, Lorenz gathered his supplies and headed for the bathroom.

One very hot shower later, Lorenz returned to his laptop. Lorenz scrolled down to like the journal entry—it was definitely going to become a new favourite to return to—when he noticed an additional note from the author.

> thanks for reading! it's my first time writing a proper story like this. let me know what you guys think in the comments ;)

Lorenz paused, his heart suddenly in his throat. He had favourited several of arrowtothehart’s works, but had always felt a little awkward about leaving a comment. So far he hadn’t made contact with _anyone_ personally on Secret Passions; his activities were strictly limited to browsing and favouriting things silently. He wasn’t really sure how one started a conversation in such an environment in the first place. But here was an invitation.

Surely, Lorenz thought as bit his lip, the author would appreciate being given sincere feedback? That this was an appropriate venue to express the profound emotional and erotic effects that the man’s writing had on a complete stranger? He already felt like he owed arrowtothehart thanks for opening his eyes to so many things—a review would be the least Lorenz could do to let him know how wonderful his work was. Apprehensive but excited, Lorenz began to type.

> **MasqueradeOfRoses** commented:
> 
> I have been an admirer of your work for some time now, and I have thoroughly enjoyed all of it, especially this latest piece. I would go as far as to say that this is your best work yet! The characters are very compelling and engaging, with your descriptions being incredibly evocative.
> 
> That being said, there are some minor errors that need attention…

It wasn’t until the page reloaded that Lorenz realized his comment was nearly half as long as the story itself. The rest of the comment section—which mostly consisted of simple statements such as “very hot!”—was entirely dwarfed by his accidental manifesto.

“Oh no,” Lorenz breathed. “Oh no no no _no…”_

Duchess trilled at him curiously from her spot on his bed. Lorenz swung about in his office chair, clutching his face in distress.

“Oh Duchess! I’ve made a _terrible_ fool of myself!” He cried, and flung himself before her on the bed. His face was hot with shame against the cool linens. Duchess nosed at the top of his head. Lorenz brought his arms around her, stroking her downy white fur for whatever comfort he could find.

“What was I thinking?! Leaving a comment of that length, in such detail?” He fretted out loud as he pet Duchess’s back. Nobody liked unsolicited advice. He had undeniably overstepped a social boundary. Lorenz panicked more when he realized he didn’t even know what the acceptable social boundaries of interacting with someone’s online erotica _were!_

The flush of embarrassment gave way to cold dread as Lorenz imagined what this stranger would think of his inane ramblings. And the implication that Lorenz had _pleasured himself _to the man’s work…! He wouldn’t be surprised if the man blocked him on sight.

“I should delete that comment immediately,” Lorenz gasped, sitting up.

Duchess grunted at him in confusion. He waved her off with a hand as he headed to his laptop. “It’s fine, I can re-write a smaller one if need be.”

Unfortunately for Lorenz, Duchess wasn’t pleased with her cuddles being so abruptly interrupted. As soon as he sat down in his chair she jumped into his lap, overbalanced and dug her claws through the thin fabric of Lorenz’s pajama pants and into the skin of his thighs. He yelped in pain, startling Duchess. Duchess leapt again, this time on to his laptop, her little paws running rampant over the keys as Lorenz tried to regain his composure.

Once he’d recovered enough to check that he wasn’t bleeding, Lorenz looked up to see the chaos Duchess had opened on his laptop. She had somehow managed to open a dozen windows and more were popping up. Lorenz bit back a yell of frustration.

“Duchess!” He scolded. She meowed plaintively at him.

“Absolutely not. You know the rules: Papa’s laptop is not for sitting on!” He scooped her up into his arms and deposited her gently but firmly outside of his bedroom, then shut the door.

Lorenz returned to his laptop, even more frazzled than before. He only noticed after he had undone the mess his cat had made that the window to Secret Passions had been closed. He opened up a new one, hoping that nobody had the chance to read his comment yet. The notification bar at the top of his screen blinked an accusatory red. Lorenz clicked it, filled with dread.

> **arrowtothehart** replied to your **comment**

The worst had indeed happened. Lorenz wanted to log off and never return. And yet he would not be able to rest until he had read the reply. Lorenz’s hand shook as he clicked through to the link, his mind numb with the fear of the unknown.

> **arrowtothehart** replied:
> 
> thanks for the feedback! i wasn't expecting such a thorough analysis of my writing but i'm glad you enjoyed it ;)
> 
> i'll keep your advice in mind, you're right about the awkward phrasing. i'll try fixing that next time. thanks again for the comment. your compliments have inspired me to write even more ;)

Lorenz blinked in disbelief. He read the words again. And again. A sigh of relief shuddered through him as he sat back, reeling. Not only had he not overstepped his boundaries, arrowtothehart had _thanked _him for his comment. Lorenz rubbed his face and was surprised to find a giddy smile tugging at his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to casualbird for beta-ing, and thank you to everyone who left kudos and comments on the first chapter :*


End file.
